Cruciatus
by vratsababe
Summary: He is not pleased for the Malfoys' mistake... no, not at all... after Malfoy Manor from DH LMNM


Written for my Fanfic100 challenge on Livejournal.  
Read and Review:D

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Never before had the house of his fathers felt more unfamiliar. The majority of the portraits had left their frames, unable to bear witness to the events taking place in those halls. Malfoy Manor was a prison; it had lost all traces of warmth and eloquence and had instead adopted the feeling of a torture chamber. Hours by daylight were safer, yes, but the curtains had been pulled shut long ago and no one inside had seen daylight in months.

Since the Potter boy, the mudblood, and the blood traitor had escaped from beneath their pointed noses, the Malfoys were tortured daily. The Dark Lord had them bound to chairs with their eyes held open by Greyback or another, forced to watch the others put through the Cruciatus over and over again.

The first time He had put them through this ordeal, He took Draco first. Lucius could hear Narcissa's screams in his very soul, intermingling with Draco's. He couldn't see her, but his blood had turned to ice as she pleaded for her son. He couldn't hear his own yells as his son writhed on the rug, the glass shards still embedded in his skin from the chandelier's tremendous crash. He felt sick; his head was pounding and the fiery ropes binding him to the chair cut into his arms and torso, burning profusely. Draco's eyes rolled back into his head as he passed out from the pain and Narcissa's cries cut across his brain like a hot knife.

"Didn't last long, did he?" The Dark Lord's high, terrible voice came from behind the folds of his hood. He shook his head, "No, he will have to learn to fight that better… _Ennervate._"

Draco's eyes came back into focus, full of terror and pain. The Dark Lord motioned to Yaxley to drag him across the glass-strewn floor and into a chair next to his mother. He spoke again, "Which one would cause Lucius Malfoy more pain: being tortured himself… or watching his wife be tortured first before him?"

Lucius tried his best to keep his face and thoughts unreadable, staring straight ahead. A few of the Death Eaters around snickered and Lucius could feel molten rage pulsing in his every vein. His jaw trembled as if he were freezing but his stormy eyes focused intently on the fire across from him. The Dark Lord smiled evily.

"Yes, yes… I think I shall take her first," He flicked his wand lazily and the ropes binding her vanished into red smoke. Whoever was holding her head let go and she fell onto the glassy rug.

He could see her now; her cheeks were flaming red, as were her eyes. Gashes and cuts across her arms and hands seeped blood lazily, refusing to clot properly. Her eyes had reddened and read nothing but fear as she glanced at her husband before being pulled into a kneeling position before Him. The look she had given him had stopped the air in his throat—his very heart ceased beating. It resumed beating at three times its regular speed as the Dark Lord lowered his wand to her fragile form.

"_Crucio…"_

Her screams echoed throughout the room as if she was screaming inside a cavernous cathedral. His silver eyes widened and he paled, biting his lip in terror. He was unable to scream; unable to process the scene before him. Was this an unimaginable nightmare? Had he already reached this horrendous level of Hell where he was being forced to watch the two people he loved most in the world slain slowly before him?

He could feel his hot blood trickling down his chin as his son's screams pulled him out of his numbness. Draco's cries for his father to do something hit him like a wave. It didn't matter if he was killed for it; if he could get Narcissa away from this… he would gladly die.

He thrashed violently in the chair, but the hands of the werewolf held him firmly in place no matter how much he tried. "Pretty little one she is," Greyback growled lowly. "If the Dark Lord was to give me the chance… I'm sure she tastes like heaven."

The bile rose in his throat and he swallowed hard. He fell limp against the ropes, all prospect of breaking free of them vanquished. Freezing tears crept slowly from his slate eyes that rested on his precious wife: she was in pain and there was nothing he could do to help her. The guilt he felt only intensified as the Dark Lord relinquished his cursing grasp on her.

"As the master of this house, Lucius, I should kill you for Potter's escape," His cold voice said over Draco's pained sobs. Several tears rolled still over Lucius' high cheekbones, seeping into the hands holding his head still. "I should torture you beyond anything you could fathom… perhaps more for your son and wife? Would that do the trick?"

"That… won't be necessary, My Lord," Lucius' voice shook and cracked. Someone behind him guffawed and the Dark Lord smiled.

"Perhaps," He said, pondering Lucius' preposition, but continued with yet more malice, "But I think it will be _very _necessary. Bellatrix—I require your assistance."

His sister-in-law stepped out from the shadows, her features even more sunken and malicious in the low light of the fire. "Of course, My Lord… whatever you need, I am here and in your service forever," She bowed, but he cut her off.

"Save your breath, Bella," He cut her off coldly. "You will receive yours later. You have also fouled up tonight…" Her eyes fell instantly, but brightened terrifically as one of His long, cold fingers touched her chin and brought her eyes to his, "Your sister…"

"With pleasure, My Lord," acidly, she spoke, staring at her sister laying at her Lord's feet. She pointed her wand downwards, but He put out a hand.

"Not so fast, Bella," He said, his non-existent lip curling deviously. "The boy as well… I shall take care of him." Draco was thrown to the floor next to his mother. The Dark Lord's crimson snake eyes met Lucius' eyes of steel, "And then I shall remind Lucius why he remains faithful and will never make this mistake again… or he will watch them die before him."

Lucius' jaw tightened and the blood continued to trickle down his pale skin. As his wife and son were tortured before him, he passed out several times, only to be brought back to consciousness as He continued to harm them. They would die… they would be tortured into insanity… or perhaps it would be him that would die or be driven insane. As the Dark Lord turned his wand on him, all thought vanished from his brain. He was still being held to the chair and the werewolf's nauseating fingernails were cutting into his face.

When his eyes, or maybe his memories, would slide into focus, he could see his son, a toddler crying over the death of his favorite crup. He could see his wife, sixteen years old with tears in her eyes, perhaps over something he had said. He could see Draco beaming and running towards him with a broom and a practice snitch in hand. He could see Narcissa, stunning in crimson robes and a sultry smile reserved just for him. He could hear his son's laughter and he could feel his wife's lips on his ever so slightly through the burning fire consuming him and his eyes unclenched… he had been holding them shut against the heat that must have been burning him. The flames on his skin died down and he realized that he was beginning to fight the curse, but no joy came to him at this thought. Before his thoughts could clear, he could hear the crunch of glass as he fell against it. It was as if he was unconscious, but he could hear the words above him.

"Never again, Lucius," The Dark Lord hissed. "Not ever… you will die next time."

More glass crunched as footsteps left into the bowels of the house. The Death Eaters standing around left with Him, perhaps to watch Bella get tortured somewhere else. It was completely silent before he heard anything near him move.

"Lucius," Narcissa choked, crawling across the rug towards him. "Lucius… please… don't leave me…"

"Dad?" Draco wheezed and Lucius summoned the strength to move anything in indication that he was still among the living. Narcissa was at his side immediately, but collapsed against his chest. Draco was having a hard time breathing and he could hear it. They were alive, yes, but there would be more to come… and would he be able to endure it?


End file.
